


Don't mind where I get taken

by keysmash



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spnspringfling, Established Relationship, M/M, Skinny Dipping, Swimming Pool, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-03
Updated: 2011-06-03
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:05:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keysmash/pseuds/keysmash





	Don't mind where I get taken

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scintilla10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scintilla10/gifts).



Six days, seven nights in west Texas, tracking what turned out to be a three-legged coyote with a serious case of mange. Six days sleeping in the car with the windows rolled down and sand blowing through whenever there was a breeze, more often than not woken up by Highway Patrol rapping on the roof; seven nights heading into the desert, bundled against the cold and hoping they were carrying enough water. By the time they found the coyote, snarling at them behind a rock, Dean had lost any appreciation he'd once had for the beauty of the land. The mountains barely visible in the distance, the raging colors of the sunsets they woke to every evening, the animals that emerged to scurry through the darkness along with the two of them — he didn't give a shit. All he wanted was I-20 stretched out in front of the car again, leading them into the sunrise until they found someplace with shade trees again.

Odessa was one of those scrubby little towns that only had greenery because the land had been irrigated into submission. Dean wanted humidity, and trees so tall and thick you couldn't see the sky when you stood beneath them. He'd planned on cutting straight across Texas and on into Louisiana, where they could lose themselves in swampland, but he'd forgotten how long it could take to drive across a quarter of the country while staying in the same state. It was edging up on noon when they pulled into town. Sam was dozing and Dean was jealous, so he stopped at the first place he found without bothering to drive around for some comparison shopping.

He wanted air conditioning, he wanted a bed beneath his body, he wanted to drink water that wasn't poured warm out of a plastic jug he'd been carrying for hours, and he wanted it all now.

He turned the deadbolt once they were both inside, slung some salt before the door and windowsill, and stripped right down to his boxers. The underwear felt gritty and stiff but he wore them to the bathroom anyway, where he found Sam slurping water out of his cupped palms. The faucet gushed into the sink; only the cold tap had been twisted. Dean took the time to unwrap a complimentary cup and use that instead, but they stood drinking on the tile floor for a long time.

They went to bed separately but Dean woke up some time later to feel Sam crawling in behind him. The room had cooled, between the pulled shades and the cranked A/C, and Dean was glad for Sam's body heat. He pushed his knee between Dean's, insistent even when most of the way asleep, and that was good, too — Dean's bottom leg would probably go numb, but Sam was warm against both thighs in the meantime. Dean would happily choose this over walking the cold expanse of a desert night. Sam wrapped his arm around Dean's middle, tucking his fingertips into the waistband of his boxers. His breath came hot and slow against the back of Dean's neck. A fuzzy blanket of indeterminate fabric was still bunched up at the foot of the bed, and Dean fell back asleep while he was deciding whether to pull it over them.

He was alone the next time he opened his eyes, although the sheets hadn't yet gone cool to the touch behind him. He stretched and found Sam paging through a stack of menus in front of the bedside table.

"There's Mexican," he said, flashing one sheet at Dean. "And a couple of pizza joints. I just don't know how late any of these places will deliver."

The blinds hung with their flat sides facing the room, and Dean couldn't get an immediate handle on the time. "It didn't feel like we slept that long," he said, and yet his watch showed it to be past ten. He crossed the room and peered outside. The parking lot was empty aside from his own wheels and there was no traffic on the street beyond, but the lights were on at an IHOP down the way. Just outside their window, the motel's sign glowed as well. It said, _Vacancy_ , and it said, _Free Cable_ , but most importantly, it said _Swimming Pool_.

Dean picked Sam's jeans up from the floor and tossed them at his chest, then started stepping back into his own pair. They'd gone stiff with dried sweat a few days before, but he pulled them up anyway. "Grab some towels," he said. "We're going swimming."

He pocketed a room key and went. The grit on the sidewalk outside their room rubbed against his bare feet as he headed away from the office — wandering by shirtless several hours after checking in was never a good idea. The door clicked shut before he rounded the corner and he heard Sam's footfall behind him, the steps he took when he wanted Dean to know where he was.

The pool was on the other side of their room's back wall; they could've kicked through the drywall and the vinyl siding if the need had been great enough. A chain-link fence connected one side of the motel to the other, blocking off a small and crappy courtyard that took the space of three or four rooms. The fence came to waist-height, separating the pool from the side parking lot. Dean braced himself with one hand and hopped on over. Sam followed, jumping as well instead of fooling with the gate in the center.

"This is — Dean, c'mon, we don't even have bathing suits," Sam said when Dean pulled down his pants. Sam tossed their thin towels onto a deck-chair gone yellow with age, though, and tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans. He hadn't bothered to zip back up, Dean saw, so the faded denim fell open to frame the dark fabric of his boxers. Dean grinned and dragged his gaze slowly over Sam's chest and back to his face.

"Never stopped us before," Dean said. They'd outgrown the last pairs of trunks Dad saw fit to buy about a decade before, but they'd certainly swam since then, and in stupider locations than this. None of the rooms looked onto the pool, the parking lot was as empty as the one outside their room, and this side of the motel faced the windowless wall of another building. Dean tugged his boxers down his thighs. "Besides, no one's around."

"Dean," Sam said again, but he was laughing, and he wasn't pretending not to check out Dean's cock as it swelled slightly between his legs. Dean winked and turned towards the pool, taking four measured steps before diving into the deep.

The water was a shock against his skin, cool and wet where he'd become unhappily accustomed to dry heat. He opened his eyes as he cut through the pool, angling close to the floor to feel the weight of the water pressing him down. He kicked, propelling himself easily along the bottom, and every part of his body that felt crusty and disgusting thirty seconds before was now slick, rinsed clean.

The pool's floor angled up into the shallows before Dean's lungs started to ache. He arched his hands to follow, pointing towards the surface, and broke back into the air with a splash. Water flowed down his body to meet the pool's surface at his waist when he stood. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair while he took a deep breath. This was much more satisfying than standing under a shower, only getting clean as fast as the water pressure would allow, could have been.

He heard the splash of Sam's dive and then silence. Dean glanced back to make sure Sam was underwater on purpose, not because he'd cracked his skull upon the floor, but he was gliding beneath the surface, kicking in great, slow sweeps of his legs that pushed him along the same path Dean had taken. His overlapped hands pointed straight at Dean's legs, and Dean turned back around, smiling. He let Sam grab him by the ankles, let Sam pull him under again.

Dean twisted beneath the water, opening his eyes against the chlorine again to find his brother. Sam still held him by the calves; he stretched in a long line back towards the bluer water of the deep end. His hair floated around his face while he smiled at Dean with his mouth full of water, and then it slicked back against his head as Sam let go of Dean, gathered his feet underneath himself, and pushed through the surface. Dean followed, going to Sam while he was still catching his breath. Dean almost never got to see all of Sam's face like this: his hair always covered some part of him, keeping some bit of his expression out of Dean's reach. With his hair plastered against his skull like this, he was all for Dean.

Dean spread his fingers over Sam's hips, touching as much skin as he could, and moved against him, pressing himself to the warm line of Sam's body. Sam leaned down and smiled as he put his mouth to Dean's. He smelled like a public pool but Dean kissed him anyway. He backed up when Dean kept moving, letting himself be guided towards the deep end again until the water lapped at their chests. They were eye to eye for once, Sam a few inches lower on the slanting bottom of the pool. Dean grinned as he pulled away from Sam's mouth and slid slightly to the side. He nudged first his knee and then his thigh between Sam's legs. It gave him the perfect position to grind his dick against Sam's hip. Sam did the same, pushing his leg between Dean's to mirror him, riding his body.

Sam put his hands on Dean's hips, spread his feet, and pushed further into Dean's space. He tugged, and it jerked Dean off balance. He clutched at Sam, dick twitching as he hooked one foot around Sam's leg. He didn't feel very steady, standing with one foot on the ground and most of his weight suspended between Sam's body and the water around them, but the position wedged his dick even tighter against Sam. Sam didn't seem to be going anyplace, either. Dean grabbed the back of his neck and held on.

They weren't louder than usual, but every noise they made echoed off the walls around them. The lapping of the water turned to outright splashes when they came — first Dean and then Sam, and they almost went under again when Sam's legs wobbled. After, they waded to the steps at the shallow to sit with their legs stretched out in front of them. Their arms were in a tangle as each tried to get the other under his shoulder.

Dean's fingertips were pruning up. The wind felt cold on his damp skin, and he'd been so doused in chlorine that he couldn't smell it on himself anymore, although the scent would probably stick around for days. He didn't much care. He had the promise of food cooked to order, a shower in the near future, and a bed big enough to fit the both of them. Dean leaned his head against the edge of the pool and stared up at the stars; staying here long enough for the water to leave its marks on him sounded like a good idea.


End file.
